Fair Assasin
by Bottledtacos
Summary: Escaping from an abusive father, Lucy finds refuge at the convent of Death where she trains to be an assassin. Her latest assignment brings her to the the heart of the royal court, where she is to weed out the traitors there. Here, she meets the enigmatic spy Natsu. Will this meeting cause a daughter of Death to finally find something other than vengeance and hatred to live for?


**Chapter 1 : The makings of an assassin **

**A/N : Okay.. This fic literally came to me in the middle of one of my mother's lectures. This features a dark and twisted Lucy and a more suave and mature Natsu. And yes, this fic will feature Nalu, but in small doses. I hope you guys like it as this is my first attempt at writing a fic with an actual plot to speak of. Well then, BUCKLE YOUR SEATBELTS GUYS, ITS GONNA BE A HELL OF A RIDE.**

_**Disclaimer : I do not own Fairy Tail. I'm simply one of the many writers that has chosen the fertile ground of this anime to hone my writing skills.**_

**FTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT**

As I receive blow after blow from my dearest father, I cannot help but muse about Death.

Even as my body, already bruised and battered – a testament of my father's foul temper – struggles to cope with the pain that comes with the increasing strength my father is putting behind his punches and kicks, I cannot help but think about Death. For I bear a tangle of scars around my body, marks left by the poison the herb witch used to try to expel me from my mother's womb. That I survived, is prove that I'm indeed favored, if not sired by Death himself.

That I was indeed sired by Death himself is not the reason my father bears a deep grudge against me. That I survived the supposedly fatal poison, and my mother did not enrages my father to no end. And lo, for I have weathered 17 years of beatings just because Death would not welcome me as He had welcomed my mother. All this thoughts run through my head as I curl my body into a fetal position. This only serves to incense my father further as he aims a kick at me, breaking one of my ribs. I know this, as this is not the first nor will it be the last time my ribs are broken at my father's behest. The kick seems to be the last of the beatings tonight as he stalks back into the tavern while I lie on the cold hard floor, assessing the damage to my body. If my father is feeling merciful tonight, he will send for the herb witch to hasten the recovery of my injuries. If not, well , my wounds shall heal on their own. My father discovered a long time ago that I heal faster than most, that I can shrug of seemingly mortal wounds. Whether it is because of me being a daughter of death I truly do not know.

The door to my house slams, and I pray to whatever gods are listening that it is not my father. That he returns from the tavern so quickly does not bode well for me. I sigh in relief as I take in the wizened form of the herb witch. The herb witch, only clucks in disapproval – whatever indignation and anger that she once felt on my behalf has long since been quashed by my father's threat of hanging should she reveal my condition to anyone else for my father is the extremely influential and rich magistrate of the town – and hurries to treat my wounds , I can only sigh in relief as she administers the poppy draught, a pain-killing potion. The herb witch then procedes to help me up and steers me out of the house. Her actions I view with a modicum of surprise as I am not allowed out of the house. I'm far too weak as it is to ask any questions as it is. As I come out of the house, I breathe in the cool night air. The herb witch does not give me time to enjoy this new luxury of mine as she ushers me towards a wagon strapped to a horse. What she says next shocks me utterly.

" I cannot stand by anymore and see you harmed by that monster anymore Lucy," she rasped, her voice papery like. " Your father will one day kill you, accelerated healing process or not, and I will not stand by and see that happen. I will send you to the Church of St. Morgur. Do not argue."

That is all that she says before pushing me into the hay- stacked wagon before mounting the horse and riding away. That I'm to be sent to the church of Death does not faze me in the least, for in means that I have finally escaped the brutal grasp of my father. I smile. My smile is a jagged thing, filled with blood and too much teeth. But it is a smile nonetheless. It has truly been a long time since I smiled.

**FTFTFTFTFTFTTFTFFTFTFTFTF**

I am passed from the hands of hedge priests to herb witches – those who still balk from workshiping the new god the Church has introduced and still offer up offerings to appease the old gods – like some sort of cargo. Not that I have any complaints for if it means I can escape my father, I will endure anything. I am hidden in turnip filled wagons and hay stacked carts as I make my journey across Britanny, all to keep the Church from discovering me. For they have no love for abominations, as they call people like me , and would not hesitate to kill me if they ever knew that I was rumored to be a daughter of Death. Before long, I have reached my destination, a towering church in the middle of a small island. At this, a tremor of unease snakes through me. I am rowed to the island by a sailor, and judging by the conch shell that he wears hanging by his neck, he is a workshipper of Saint Mer, one of the old gods. He offers few words and simply nods his head at me as I step onto the sand that gathers at the shore of the island. When I reach the entrance of the church of Death, I look back, but the boat has already been put to sea. I turn and began to make my way to the convent, eager to know what the workshippers of Death require of me.

**FTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT**

As I am about to open the large polished mahogany doors, I pause and decide to knock. The sailor has said that I was to meet the abbess, and though I have yet to meet an abbess, I have a suspicion they do not take well to poor mannerism. So I knock on the doors. The doors are opened and I am greeted by the sight of a petite blue haired girl. Without speaking, she motions for me to follow and introduces herself as Levy. Though I long to ask the million questions running through my head, I keep silent. After a several turns, we arrive at a door. Levy procedes to knock on the door.

" Enter," a deep but feminine voice commands.

I take I breathe to compose myself before I enter the room. As such I do not miss the whispered good luck that comes from the blue haired girl. Not that I have the time to acknowledge this as my limbs seemed to have developed a mind of their own. I push open the doors and am greeted by the sight of a scarlet haired woman at a desk covered with parchments and papers. Hazel eyes meet mine and it takes all of my will power not to flinch, for there is a ferocity in her eyes that seems barely contained.

" Lucy Heartphilia." She states

I give a start as I wonder how she could have known my name.

" Child, do you know the reason you are here?"

" I do not know, reverend mother , for the hedge priests nor the herb witches would tell me."

At this, the abbess inclines her head. " You are here because you are a daughter of Death, Lucy Heartphilia."

At this I gawked openly at her.

" Were you never told the circumstances of your birth? How your mother tried to expel you from her womb and Death refused to accept you. Do you not bear the scars that are a remnant of the very poison the herb witch used to expel you from your mother's womb?," her voice as dry as bone as she says this.

At this a spark of anger and defiance flares within me. " So what if am indeed a daughter of Death? Why did you not come for me if you knew?." I say in an even tone, but in the silence of the room, it comes out as a shout.

The abbess merely raises one well groomed eyebrow at my words which only seeks to infuriate me further. " We do not come for anybody, Lucy Heartphilia. If you were truly a daughter of Death, you would have come to us, as every other daughter of Death has. " she states simply."

" And what do the daughters of Death do?" I ask, sarcasm dripping from my every word, for I have no wish to accept my fate lying down. " Wander the battlefields in search of dead bodies to bury?"

In a flash, a knife appears in the abbess's hand and manages to find my throat. As I sit paralysed in fear and utter terror, the abbess lovingly caresses my throat with the tip of the knife. The knife punctures skin and a bead of blood appears. " You presume too much Lucy Heartphilia," she hisses, anger showing in her voice, but amidst her fury, I detect a hint of approval and amusement. " We are all assassins here, servants to Death. We usher in the deaths of those Death has deemed undeserving of life. It is an honor , a sacrament to kill in His name."

As I process the abbess's words, she removes the dagger from my and begins to polish it nonchahontly. " You will learn off the different ways to kill a man, the different poisons to end a life. You will learn to wield a crossbow and many other weapons. You will never be helpless again," she says earnestly, in an attempt to sway me to serve Death.

" What if I refuse?"

" Then you will be sent into the arms of a kind and gentle man in need of a wife." she states.

It is hardly a choice. To stay and have power over my life, or be handed back into a life dominated by males and be treated like a doll? I make the decision in a thrice.

" Reverend mother, if you think me worthy than I shall join the convent."

At this, the scarlet-haired beauty smiles. It is not a genuine smile but rather a sly smile filled with secrets. " Call me Erza, Lucy. And you are indeed worthy. My dagger is coated with a poison that will kill a man within seconds. That you did not experience the slightest tinge of pain is prove of you parentage." With that, she motions for me to vacate the room. I walk out on numb legs, for I cannot wrap my mind around the idea that I was just poisoned.

**FTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT**

I leave the room in a daze as I am led to the infirmary to receive attention for my many wounds by the blue-haired girl. I am snapped back into reality as the sister that works at the infirmary calls out my name to pull me back to reality. Sister Porlyusia, for that is the name that Levy called her, is brusque and impatient, but her draughts and tisanes do their work well. Within seconds of the medicine being administered, the dull throbbing emitting from my wounds are soothed and she applies a layer of lotion to hasten the recovery of my wounds. As she reaches to apply the lotion on my back, I flinch, for that is where my tangle of scars lie. Sister Porlyusia's gaze softens somewhat with sympathy and understanding.

" Child, do not be ashamed of your scars. Here at the convent, we all bear the marks of our lineage." She says in a soft whisper. That is all the words that she says. Meager though they are, they bring no less comfort for me.

**FTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFFTFTFT**

After my wounds have been treated, I am led to the mess hall by Levy. She has seemingly warmed towards me enough to start conversing with me. Not that I know how to respond. Years of interaction with no one but my abusive father and the occasional herb witch has robbed me of my social graces . Levy does not seem to mind as she carries on talking.

As I am led to the mess hall, I am greeted by the sight of a dozen or more girls sitting and eating dinner, for it is already night . At the sight of me, they quiet down. It is unnerving the way their eyes examine me, the way a predator examines its prey. I introduce myself to them and they too introduce themselves to me. A few stand out in my mind. A brunette named Cana that was nursing a cup of ale and a white-haired beauty named Mirajane. Thankfully, I am left alone before long and I finally get to eat. It is a meal of bread and goat's cheese, but after years of consuming nothing but turnips, and rotten ones at that, I wolf them down hurriedly.

" We have more initiates but they are all out, carrying out the will of Morgura." Levy tells me.

Later, several other nuns and the abbess join us. Levy runs me through every one of them. There is Sister Porlyusia, our head healer and poison brewer. Sister Bisca, instructor of martial arts and weapons. Then there is Sister Evergreen, teacher of womanly arts. This Levy says with an endearing blush on her face. I am told that mastery over womanly arts are necessary for us to get close to our targets.

Right here, right now, I will make an oath. As I raise my goblet into the air, I swear that I will not waste this opportunity that the gods have given me. I will learn all there is to be learnt, and I will never again allow myself to be at the tender mercies of a man. Little do I know of the glance the reverend mother shares with Sister Porlyusia.

**FTFTFTFTFTFTFTFFTTTFTFT**

My training starts as soon as the light of dawn filters into my room. I take additional and remedial training to make up for my lateness in joining the service of the convent. All the things the abbess promised that I would learn I have learnt. The art of manipulation and deception. Hand to hand combat. The brewing of various poisons. All this I learn and more. Before long, the sisters have deemed me worthy of joining the other initiates in their training. It seems that my fellow initiates were all wondering where I was. I am touched by their concern, for I have not been shown any concern for a long time. While I do well enough with the various weapons I am trained with, it is in hand to hand combat that I truly excel. Even with less training than the others, there are only three initiates that can defeat me. Cana , Mirajane and surprisingly Levy. I soon learn that her diminutive stature does not make her an easy opponent and out of us all, she is most proficient in hand to hand combat.

Even with my success in other fields, most particularly hand to hand combat, it fails to negate the total and utter failure I am at the womanly arts. My father did not care much for me and various men have forced themselves on me, rightly thinking that my father did not give a shit about me. As such, I am loath to use my body to get close to a man, target or no. Sister Evergreen is indeed a patient woman, but her patience is quickly wearing thin as I refuse time and again to accept her teachings. I fear it will not be long before she informs the abbess of my failures. The thought of having to face the abbess, no Erza , has me near wetting my undergarments.

The nuns, while being stringent and hard taskmistresses, are no slave drivers. Rarely do they even raise their voices to scold us. Mayhap they know that gentle velvet gloved hands are needed in handling us, lest we rebel and no longer follow their orders.

**FTFTFTFFTFTFTFTFTFTFT**

Perhaps it is an apt coincidence that my first assignment comes to me in November, Blodmonth – the month of blood. As I make my way to the tavern my target is staying, I cannot stop the shivers of equal parts anticipation and terror that run down my shoulder blades. With the help of Morguro, god of Death, my first kill will happen in a few hours time, where I will finally be able to repay the debt I owe the convent for taking me in. I make my way into the tavern. The cold touch of metal against my wrist is uncomfortable, but it is the only place that I could hide my knife. My target tonight is the Frenchman Renom, who according to the information received by Erza, is a spy send to gather information on our duchess. I have been instructed to kill him before he reaches the royal residence, and to make it look like an accident. Easier said than done, but two years of rigorous training have led to this. I will not disappoint the convent. I take a deep breath before entering the tavern, praying that I will manage to complete my assignment.

**A / N :Whoohooooooooo, finally finished **_chapitre un_. **Im so happy. Before I wrap it up, I would like to tell you guys that yes, this fic is inspired by Robin Lafevers Grave Mercy. But.. I swear this chapter will be the only chapter that will follow the Grave Mercy book. Chapter 2 is where the plot differs and well .. I hope you guys know that i do not intend this fic to be a carbon copy of Grave Mercy. I only took a few things from the first few chapters. Well then review and tell me what you think ok? REVIEWS MAKE ME INCREDIBLY HAPPY. Thank you**


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